


Condition (So I Won't Take You For Granted)

by svtadea



Series: 78 Drabbles for 78 Ships [6]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Curses, Dubious Morality, God!Wonwoo, God!minghao, Human!Wonwoo, Immortal!Minghao, M/M, Reincarnation, character death that gets revived shortly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24231856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svtadea/pseuds/svtadea
Summary: Their love story began before time itself. It was written in the stars themselves. They were destined from the start, just meant for each other.If this was the punishment for loving his god and setting him free, so be it.This might be Wonwoo’s greatest sin but loving Minghao with his entirety was his virtue. No god and no destiny can ever take that away from him....Or in which Wonwoo sins, time and time again just for Minghao.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, Jeon Wonwoo/Xu Ming Hao | The8, slight
Series: 78 Drabbles for 78 Ships [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1379080
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	Condition (So I Won't Take You For Granted)

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Minor descriptions of violence and one mention of suicide, but nothing graphic. Please be warned if this makes you uncomfortable or if you find such topics triggering.
> 
> Title is from one of Wonwoo's lines in Fallin' Flower.

**ACT 1**

Their love story began before time itself. It was written in the stars themselves. They were destined from the start, just meant for each other.

But simultaneously, their love story only began in 2030.

* * *

Before humanity, there were the gods, divine beings from above with unimaginable power. Or at least, that was they want you to think. You see, gods are rather heavily flawed. They are much fickle than humans now.

That being said, we cut to ancient gods Wonwoo and Minghao, dressed in magnificent silks of the period. Both have long since descended to live with the humans. It gets boring in heaven, you know. Currently, they laid in the pavilion with Wonwoo busying himself with a book while Minghao drank heartily what seemed to be wine.

“Must you drink so early? The sun isn’t up yet,” Wonwoo remarked.

“I can think of no reason not to drink.” Minghao swirled his cup before offering it to the other, “Would you like a taste? It’s delicious. As pure as a virgin would be.”

Wonwoo scrunched up his nose. “I’d rather not. And who did you kill this time?”

Minghao shrugged. “The maid.” He took a sip once more. “And rather than kill, I merely made their death happen earlier than expected.”

“I’m sure that still classifies as killing, and now that you drank her soul, she cannot be reincarnated anymore.”

Minghao snapped back his head to drink his whole cup, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his robe. He noticed Wonwoo watching him with a grimace. “Don’t stare at me like that. You drink souls too.”

“Only when necessary,” Wonwoo retorted, “Thank the heavens you are my friend. Any other god would have driven me to the corners of the earth with disgust.”

“Thank the heavens, you love me.”

“That I do, brother.” Wonwoo smiled fondly at the other god. “But please try to limit the amount of souls you drink. You might disrupt the natural balance of the world.”

Minghao raised to him freshly poured cup of human soul. “Noted,” he said before throwing back the drink and letting it run down burning in his throat.

* * *

Only, when people say “noted”, it’s a lie.

* * *

Wonwoo could only watch as time went by. In the span of ten human years the population of town they stayed at dwindled to just a fourth of what it had been. Mysterious disappearance of women caused by the forest’s imps and demons, or so the elders say. Every time, the women taken were younger than before, and the abductions became much frequent, until the latest victim was a ten-year-old reported to not come home for supper.

The townspeople attempted to search for the missing girl, leaving no stone unturned. Men and women made sure every area, every nook and cranny was checked. Elders kept themselves at the temple fasting in prayer for their lost daughters to return. The braver men even ventured to the very forest they came to fear.

But Wonwoo knew it was futile, for the girl, or at least part of her, was before his eyes. Minghao drank. His eyes glowed as he threw back shot after shot of human soul. There was grin as he did, sharp teeth exposed, and frankly, the sight terrified Wonwoo. He wanted to leave, to be safe and at peace with his books, but of course he would never abandon Minghao.

Perhaps that was his flaw like Minghao’s greed and glutton. While Minghao’s sin was devouring young souls, the way he knew what Minghao did was wrong and yet he permitted such behavior to continue was Wonwoo’s.

“You sure you don’t want some, Wonwoo?” The god, (if he can still be called that, Wonwoo remarked mentally), raised a cup, offering.

All the other could do was sigh. “I wish you would stop devouring souls needlessly, Hao. At this rate, the other gods are bound to curse us.”

“Curse all they want. We stand at equal footing.” Minghao put down his cup, eyes dimming for a moment. “When that day comes, you will stand by me, right? Brother?”

“Of course,” Wonwoo answered with not a beat to spare. He may have sinned but his virtue was his loyalty to Hao.

* * *

The day Wonwoo feared did come, and it came quietly.

He was walking home from a visit from the market when a single deafening clap of thunder sounded. It was a sunny day with no cloud in sight. Eyes wide and breath labored, Wonwoo dropped his belongings and ran as fast as his gangly legs could permit him, boosted with the little power he had.

But he arrived too late.

He could only watch, like the way he watched Hao spiral down with his gluttony. He watched as blinding white ate the wooden structure they called home and its surrounding. Heavenly fire.

It was the manifestation of a god’s wrath, and it was the only thing that could kill a god. With the amount of fire burning high and bright, Wonwoo could tell it was the wrath of at least a hundred gods. He was almost certain that Minghao was dead. Actually, he knew it. He was sure of it.

Minghao was dead.

But Wonwoo said he’s stand by his friend. And to be reminded, their story was written in the stars. This was not the end.

Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo began a steady stride towards the burning building. His eyes stung from both the smoke and his tears but he walked on. The flames licked at him, burning his clothes unttil he was stripped to nothing, but it did not hurt him. The wrath was not meant for him.

He walked on, and despite his tears he reached Minghao’s bedchambers. Wonwoo shivered. The flames burned brighter and higher here than it did outside. It was impossible for Minghao to be alive and Wonwoo came slowly in to terms with it as he ventured deeper.

He resisted a sob. His only wish now was his friend had died as painless as possible. The flames here would have burned him to ashes in an instant.

Wonwoo dared to push open the door. He squinted at how blinding fire was but he pressed on. He was determined to find anything that tied to Hao. He may not be able to bury his body but maybe he could bury his beloved belongings instead.

With how bright the flames were, Wonwoo can see nothing but white.

But after a sharp pain shot through his sole and up his leg, he looked down and saw what felt like an oasis in a dessert. A shard had cut him upon stepping on it.

Wonwoo let out a loud cry of both anguish and delight, for the shard had been of Minghao’s drinking cup.

Wonwoo knew that distinctive color and delicate carvings on the rim. Carefully, he held it with both hands, encaging it with his grasp as he began to stumble out of the building, knowing that this, this will be his greatest and gravest sin of all.

* * *

Wonwoo wiped the warm blood that splattered on his cheek and his tears. It was from the bodies he drained of life and soul. It almost burned him. Guilt ate away at his insides.

But he loved Minghao. He loves him. They were written in the stars to just be together, and by Wonwoo’s will, they will be. He spent the better part of the millennia going from town to town, city to city, country to country. He would come for the temples and the churches, draining its devotees of their blood and their soul. Theirs was the purest of all souls, the ones closest to the gods. It was the only thing good enough to revive Minghao.

To revive a god required a million of the purest souls and Wonwoo was close, with just barely a hundred more left. With so much souls inside his being, he was pulsing with power, all of which will be poured into reviving Minghao.

He hated devouring souls actually, and it was hurting him almost physically but his love for his friend was greater. It was what he repeated to himself whenever he would devour a newborn’s soul, or a child’s, or anyone for that matter. All these sins will be redeemed when he revives Hao.

Wonwoo makes quick work of removing the pale distorted bodies he left behind. He burned them all with summoned fire until they are ashes left to be scattered by the wind. He would have buried them so they will pass on to their next life but with just body and not a soul, reincarnation was impossible. At least, their ashes could provide sustenance to the soil.

Wonwoo made sure that there was nothing left at the temple that could tie back to him. He left.

The following day, the townspeople proclaimed a total seventeen people gone missing since last month

In a year, a similar event happened with the _babaylans_ of Tondo. All of the female spiritual leaders disappeared along with their apprentices. In a decade, a visiting pilgrim was surprised to find the Buddhist temple in China stark empty and dust was only starting to collect just recently.

* * *

At the turn of the century, there was only relief that battled the pain Wonwoo felt. He had been careful, devouring souls in an order meticulously planned so that no pattern could be identified. The only common denominator was that they were what were the purest souls available, with high spiritual connections. Even then, Wonwoo made sure to devour those with impure souls but making sure he immediately vomits it out before it contaminates those he has devoured before.

Now, he stood in the forest in the country known as Joseon. He shivered despite the warm weather. This was the exact spot where their house once stood. Wonwoo could see where embers of heavenly fire danced below his feet. Had he not known better, he would easily mistake it as just sunlight filtering down despite the canopy of the trees.

Just beyond was a small clearing of black pitch black soil, where the heavenly fire burned the brightest that life just refused to grow there. Wonwoo knew by instinct that it was where Minghao died. Placing the shard that he held on to for a thousand years, Wonwoo knew it was where Minghao would be revived too.

All regrets he had dissolved for he was on the brink of being with Minghao once more. He was, as best as human vocabulary could describe, a friend. But their love transcends that for the love of a god was great and indescribable. It cannot be categorized in the humans do.

Tears began flowing as Wonwoo knelt down and placed both hands over the cup. He let his love and the power of a million pure souls flow from his body and onto the shard.

In his mind, Wonwoo saw Minghao. He envisioned his body forming from dust and air pumping his lungs and heart slowly but steadily beating. There was pain too, a sharp burning sensation down his spine that made his head throb. Wonwoo focused on Minghao though. Only Minghao. All pain was worth it for his friend.

“Wonwoo.”

It was the wrong voice. Rather it was the voice of another god. From its timber, Wonwoo could tell it was Seungcheol, a natural and charismatic leader. Though they were all equal in power, the gods that is, most tend to rally behind Seungcheol. Wonwoo and Minghao would have followed him if they didn’t descend. The pain seared him but he refused to stop.

He was almost done. Minghao was almost back and he could almost feel his presence. He prayed harder, to himself, to Minghao, to life itself. Just let him bring back Minghao and see his face once more. Then, he would go as quiet as the night gives into day.

“Wonwoo, stop. I order you!” The voice was louder and Wonwoo could hear thunder beginning to rumble.

Wonwoo screamed in agony as heavenly fire rose and engulfed him but he continued praying and letting his energy flow out to the new corpse in front of him. Minghao. He felt hands trying to pry him away but Wonwoo held on. Praying. Praying.

Until, finally, “Won...woo?”

A beat then, with a voice of a thousand angels, as if heaven itself cracked open, Wonwoo could hear nothing but fury and agony and terror. He screamed just the same.

“What have you done?!” Seungcheol yelled.

The flame blazed and the pain finally sunk in.

He could only hear everything and nothing at once, as heavenly fire engulfed his whole being. He could hear himself screeching, and someone else calling him, and a million voices talking as one, until one voice rose above it. Seungcheol’s.

“I curse you! In behalf of all the gods, I curse both of you!” Wonwoo could do nothing but listen. “May you be reborn to a miserable life. May your parents die when you are a babe and may you never get the taste of love. May you be reminded of your sin by the souls you devoured. May they scream in restless agony of what you’ve done to them.”

Wonwoo felt his consciousness slipping away, as the fire and the smoke filled his lungs and scorched his skin.

“And you, Xu Minghao!” Seungcheol continued.

No, no, no, no.

“I curse you with immortality! May you forget everything about your godhood but the sins you two brought upon the world! May you be forced to eat souls you so craved, but just the most impure and may that burn you from within. Roam the earth as a restless being without death.”

Wonwoo fell down.

* * *

**ACT 2**

Jeon Wonwoo rubbed his eyes for the umpteenth time. Sleep was always elusive so he spent his time studying instead. He had a grade to maintain after all. He was lucky enough to get a college scholarship. What’s not so lucky was that literally thousands of voices screamed at him nonstop ever since he was a child. He ought to have it checked but after foster parents passed him around, thought of him insane or outright laughed at him, Wonwoo decided not to. He can soldier on.

He turned back his attention to his books. It was the only thing that could distract him from the miserable pile known as his life. Nothing numbs the senses more than a good story or bleary lecture notes.

He sighed as he read the paragraph three more times before finally shutting the book. Grabbing a jacket and a bag, Wonwoo packed his things. Maybe he just needed a change of environment.

Thankfully, the university was surrounded of quiet cafes, some which ran for 24 hours for students like Wonwoo who just can’t get some shut eye. The cafe he was in was practically empty save for him, a pair of girls working on their laptops and the two employees strapped into working the graveyard shift. Wonwoo ordered his drink and settled on one of the high tables propped against the walls. Sitting down and taking a sip from his Americano, he cracked open his book and finally the screaming voices fade into the background.

* * *

The earliest rays of sunshine crept on until it shone on Wonwoo’s book. It’s probably best to go home now if the sun is already starting to rise. He packed up and adjusted his clothes before setting out back to the world of the living. He must have been distracted because next thing he knew; he was on the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Wonwoo looked up to see a man with almost perfect symmetric features. He was wearing a tracksuit and earphone hung from his neck so Wonwoo assumed he was one of the early morning joggers. The man offered a hand to help him up which he gladly accepted. Wonwoo barely trusted himself to get up in one piece, not with the amount of sleep he was getting, or lack thereof. “M’Sorry too. I didn’t see you.”

“No, it’s my fault. I could have avoided you,” the man said, “You clearly don’t look well. Do you need to go to the clinic? I’ll take you...”

Wonwoo shook his head. “I’m fine.”

The man didn’t look convinced. “Okay, but let me make it up to you. I’m Minghao, by the way.”

“Wonwoo, but you really don’t have too.” Before the other could reply, Wonwoo added, “and I don’t think I’ll be comfortable. I’m fine, I swear.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.” Minghao smiled at him and waved. “See you ‘round campus then,” he said before breaking into a jog.

Wonwoo returns to his dorm unscathed and he later realized that this was the first encounter that didn’t give him anxieties.

* * *

A week passed and Wonwoo was able to get a grand total of twelve hours of sleep. Voices cursed at him as usual but somehow Wonwoo felt a change, as subtle as it was. Life didn't feel as indifferent as before, as if the barest sliver of light had shone on the horizon of his pitch black nightmares. It was confusing because the only change that happened was meeting Minghao.

Often times, Wonwoo found his thoughts drifting back to the boy and before he even realized it, he started wondering what it would be like to talk to him. Growing up, Wonwoo had no friends, only acquaintances you talk to because social edicts require you to, but never lasting relationships. Add the fact that Wonwoo was a bookworm that kept to himself, he was very much lonely.

He didn't mind usually and he wasn't about to purposefully set out and make friends. Loneliness was incredibly easy to forget when you're busy trying to ignore constant screaming in your head but for the first time ever, Wonwoo felt the urge to reach out. He wanted to find Minghao and be with him, not in any sense but to just physically be with him. It was illogical but Wonwoo just felt drawn to him in some way.

* * *

In the end, Minghao found him instead.

Wonwoo had a bad habit of going out late at night, usually just for a walk when the voices were too loud for his liking. And so he walked, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans to keep them warm. He lost track of time but eventually he reached the nearby park and made his way to his usual spot.

It was the gazebo just off the path, surrounded by trees. The area was dark, with the only luminance coming from a distant lantern barely outlining the gazebo in faint light. Wonwoo sat down and just listened. With nothing to see, it was all you could do.

In this darkness, the voices were prominent. Words of hate and anger that Wonwoo could just not understand. But it was also in this darkness, Wonwoo heard life breathe. The leaves rustled as wind blew past and the night insects croaked their song. Occasionally, the sound of a car would pass by. The tranquility of the outside world for a moment was louder than those goddamn voices and for another moment, sleep came easily.

Unbeknownst to Wonwoo, the gazebo was Minghao's spot too and fate had its way to keep them apart until this moment.

* * *

Wonwoo first heard the early birds singing. Next, he twisted and tucked himself closer to whatever was warm on his side. Finally, he realized he was too comfortable and his eyes flickered open to the red ceiling of the gazebo. He sat up. The gazebo was better lit now albeit still dark. And why the hell was he this comfortable?

Wonwoo look down to find a jacket that was definitely not his. After a briefly panicking, Wonwoo found Minghao dozing off next to him, mouth slightly open and arms crossed. Unsure of what to do, Wonwoo poked him which easily woke the other.

"Oh hey," Minghao greeted, voice raspy. Wonwoo just stared. "I usually go to this place and it's always empty, but I saw you sleeping and thought you might be cold." Silence and then, "Okay, I can see why it's creepy. Sorry. Wonwoo, right?"

Wonwoo nodded and both of them just faced ahead, sitting side by side but not looking at each other,

"This is my spot too," he told Minghao later on and just like that, the conversation started flowing and sooner than they would like, both of them rushed to their respective homes at risk of being late to their classes.

* * *

It became customary to meet up nightly. Usually, it was in the gazebo at much more reasonable hour. Sometimes, they'd meet at a cafe, food and drinks treated by Minghao who was unexpectedly rich.

There were days when they would talk non-stop about everything and nothing. And there were days when they were comfortable in silence. Minghao would paint and Wonwoo would read. Just being together felt natural.

* * *

The turning point was when they didn't meet.

Minghao sent Wonwoo a text earlier saying that he couldn't make it to the gazebo tonight and he'll just make it up to him tomorrow. That being said, Wonwoo opted to stay in his dorm and study. Reading did its magic and quieted the voices that still cursed at him nonstop. But as midnight rolled around, the voices grew louder steadily to the point Wonwoo couldn't head himself over it. He closed his book as the loudness agitated him and the room felt like closing in on him. Like before, Wonwoo grabbed a jacket and made his way to the gazebo. Any longer inside his room would have suffocated him.

The night was still as he walked and it was warm, as if winter wasn't right around the corner. There was no breeze, no moon, and no insects tonight. The streetlights barely even shone. The voices were seemed like just whispers too. There was a foreboding eerie feeling but Wonwoo shook it off.

The park entrance was right up ahead, just a mere 25 meters but as if having a mind of its own, Wonwoo's feet turned left and brought him to an alley between two buildings. It was almost pitch black but Wonwoo kept on walking. The temperature dropped and he could feel the hair on his body stand up and his skin break out goosebumps.

It was when he heard it, slick, slurping sounds. The voices screamed louder, enough that Wonwoo's knees were shaking. A thud and Wonwoo struggled to see in the dark. Just then, a car passed by the road and it's light illuminated the alley for split second.

Glowing eyes and glowing blue. That was what he saw. One body slumped against the wall, haloed by a blue flame like glow. It had face that Wonwoo recognized all too well.

"Minghao?"

Wonwoo scrambled to get his phone, turning on the flashlight as soon as he did. Just as he feared, it was Minghao. He appeared to be unscathed as Wonwoo expected him the best he could but there was no spark in his eyes and no response as Wonwoo called his name. Wonwoo checked his pulse and thank god there was a beat.

Wonwoo was about to call 119 when he felt Minghao grip his arm for a moment. His eyes were still blank but his lips moved. Wonwoo brought his ears closer. "...no. Home," he heard before watching Minghao point to his thigh. Getting the message, Wonwoo dug into the Minghao's pocket where he found an ID inside a wallet. The address written on the ID wasn't far but was definitely not near. At this time, no cab was available. If Wonwoo was to bring Minghao home, he'd have to walk so without hesitating, Wonwoo tucked in his own phone and braced Minghao against his frame. He could hear the other breath, labored as Wonwoo brought themselves up.

The voices were quiet as the pair steadily made their way to Minghao's address. All Wonwoo could think about was the glowing blue. It was all he could see when he blinked, as if it was burned into his retinas, and the longer he thought about it, a heaviness in his chest grew.

Eventually, they reached the door of the address, an apartment inside one of the city's nicer high rise. Like most of apartments, the door required a code but thankfully, Wonwoo found a key tucked into Minghao's wallet, saving him from guesswork. Wonwoo let themselves in and locked the door behind them before navigating towards the bed. Delicately, he set down Minghao, tucking him beneath the covers.

The boy was burning, Wonwoo noticed even back then so he set out to find a towel he could wet and place on the other's forehead. The most obvious place to first look in was the closet. As one would expect, the closet had clothes hanging in it but stacked on the floor were at least fifty notebooks, all leather bound with the lowest in the pile looking well-worn and the higher the notebook, the better condition it was in. Wonwoo shook his head. Right now he needed a towel and it wasn't in this closet.

He ended up finding a towel in the kitchen cupboards and instantly set to work wetting it and placing it on Minghao. By now, Minghao's breathing had even out with long intervals and Wonwoo felt like a weight had been lifted of his shoulder. He checked the time and it was nearing 4am. Thankfully, tomorrow was a Saturday and he had no classes scheduled. He could stay with Minghao without worrying about leaving him.

With the other well asleep, and his sleep avoiding him like a plague, Wonwoo looked around the apartment. It was spacious for a studio type and it was immaculately clean and designed, as if it was fresh out of a magazine catalog. The only piece of furniture that felt like it was actually used was a desk pushed next to a window. There were cups upon cups of brushes, pens, and pencils. Wonwoo resisted a laugh at the empty cup noodle bowls and balled up paper. Minghao was generally a neat person but when inspiration strikes, everything just melts away.

There was Minghao's sketchpad on stacked on top of the desk and Wonwoo was pleasantly surprised to find a portrait of himself. He flipped a page and there he was again. And again. And again. Wonwoo's eyes flickered to the bed where Minghao slumbered. The pages of the sketchpad were filled with Wonwoo's likeness and some of it were dated even before they have met. Was Minghao a stalker?

As if answering his question, a photograph fell out. Wonwoo reached down to pick it up. Written on the back was his name and Minghao's and another one read as Mingyu but the date below it read 1917. Wonwoo flipped the photograph around and sure enough, he could see his own foxlike eyes staring back at him. A handsome man had his arms around Wonwoo's form, smiling and exposing a pair of canines. Minghao stood behind them, smiling as well. The three of them wore the clothes typical for the period written on it.

With more questions than before, Wonwoo tucked back the photograph into the sketchpad. He lifted the pad as he shut and it was then he noticed the photo album beneath it. In search of answers, Wonwoo set the sketchpad to the side and began to flip through the album.

But instead of answers, he found only more questions. The album had photographs growing more recent as he went through it. All of them had Minghao and Wonwoo and sometimes, Mingyu was in them as well. The oldest photo had 1860 scribbled on the bottom in ink and half of it was faded. As the photos went on, the quality improved and Wonwoo noticed a pattern of 20-30 years of time skip in between each period. On the very last page was a photograph definitely from this century.

It was looked wedding photo. Wonwoo saw himself, older and beaming at the camera, dressed in a white suit and hands intertwined with Mingyu who was kissing his cheek. Minghao stood beside with a bouquet in his hands and smiling at the couple. The year was printed on the border. 2019. It was the year before he was born.

Wonwoo shut the album and set it aside along with the sketchpad. Finally, at the bottom of the stack was a leather notebook, similar to the ones he found in the closet. It was a diary, realized after the first few words. He ought not to read it but Wonwoo couldn't tear his eyes away from it.

_.... I met him for the first time in this lifetime.... I wonder if the voices still plague him like before.... He hasn't met Mingyu in this lifetime yet...._

The next thing Wonwoo knew was that it was nearing noon and the he had gone through half of the notebooks in the closet. He was in the middle of reading when he heard a shuffle on the bed. Minghao's eyes started to flutter open until he was finally awake. "Wonwoo?" Minghao fixed his gaze on him and then to the notebook Wonwoo held but he could speak up once more, Wonwoo placed a hand on his forehead.

"You're still hot. I'll get you breakfast and medicine. I have a lot of questions but those can wait when you feel better."

* * *

"I have so many questions I don't know where to start."

It was the afternoon now and Minghao was significantly feeling better. He sat up against the headboard of the bed while Wonwoo pulled out a chair next to him, the photo album from before in his hand.

"I'm sure you do," Minghao told him, "and I'll try my best to answer all of them but to be frank there are still things that are unknown to me. I guess it's best to start from the beginning and I swear this is going to sound insane but it's real."

Wonwoo nodded at him to continue. "Everything I've read has been insane already that I'm willing to believe whatever you say at this point."

Minghao took a deep breath and, "For starters, I'm immortal.

"I don't know how it was possible but I remember waking up in a clearing and that's where everything started. I can't put a year on it but it was already the early Joseon period. If I try to remember, absolutely nothing comes up. All I knew were the basic survival instincts and my name. That's it.

“Eventually, I made it to a nearby village and I asked around if they had any idea who I might be, if I had any family. No one knew me. The next village I went to was the same, and the next, and the next. After around 3 years of going around, I gave up and decided to make the most of who I am at the time.

"I settled down to work as a farmer for an old couple in one village. They were the Jeons and they immediately treated me like one of their own. They'd been trying to have a child since forever and eventually, after ten years of being with them, they were blessed with one. You. Or the past life of you."

"Me?" Wonwoo echoed. His eyes drifted back to the album he held. It sounded impossible, for him to be alive at least five hundred years ago. But what he held in his hand proved otherwise.

"Everything was fine for the first few years except you always complained about the voices," Minghao continued, "You said they were always screaming at you, cursing at you. The only thing that calmed you down was reading. When you were eight, the Jeons died of a fire. No one was able to help because it was the town festival then and I took you out to see the lanterns. I was left to care for you ever since."

"The voices... I still hear them," Wonwoo told him and lowly he spoke, "and my parents died in a car crash when I was six." It was something he never said out loud in years in fear of being choked by his emotions. But strangely, or maybe not, he felt nothing. No guilt, no sadness or anger. Nothing. Like it has always been meant to be that way.

Minghao nodded. "That's something you have in common with all your past lives. Every time, I meet your reincarnation and it's the same thing. You were orphaned and then it takes a while, but you'd eventually confide the voices. There's one more thing too..."

"What is it?"

"We'll get there, wait. You were twenty already and it was then I started to realize my immortality. Everyone grew old but not me. I was easily at least 50 years old but I looked the same age as you. I brushed it off but one day you confronted me about how every year, I would disappear every four months and come home feverish. The following day, the town delinquent turned missing.”

A grimace appeared on Minghao’s face and he twisted on where he sat, shrinking unto himself.

"I actually didn't know what happened,” he said softly, carefully, “It's like my brain turns off and next thing I know; I wake up alone in the ground. You spied on me and that's how we figured out I've been eating souls whenever that happens."

"So," Wonwoo began, "that bluish thing around you last night..."

"That was the soul of who I ate last night," Minghao answered bluntly, as his mouth is set on a frown and his eyebrows knit together. "I don't know who it was, before you ask. Whenever this stuff happens, I lose consciousness. My body acts on its own but it only preys on those bad people, sinful people. Normally, I'll find out two or three days later that I ate an abusive husband or a thief.”

Minghao shook his head once, as if to will away the bad things. "Going back to your first reincarnation I met, the one thing in common I was referring to earlier was Mingyu."

Wonwoo flipped to the last page of the album where the wedding picture was at. "It's this guy, right?"

"Yeah,” Minghao smiled as he answered and caressed the page delicately, “You met Mingyu each lifetime, the same way you always met me. It's like he's your soulmate while I was destined to be your best friend. I figured it out after the fourth lifetime. The same thing happens. You two always end up together and watching you two happy was the best part..."

"There's a but isn't there?"

Minghao nodded once more, lips taut. "Yeah. After at least two years, Mingyu ends up dead one way or another, and unable to take the grief, you..."

"Suicide," Wonwoo supplied for him.

"You never made it past thirty. And that was the hardest part.” Minghao’s face settled to an expressionless façade but his voice had a slight tremble to it and his eyes, though piercing and cold, were shimmering with kept-in tears. “The first time it happened, I didn't know what to do and I even tried to follow suit but it was if destiny wouldn't let me.

“Twenty years later, I met you again, under different circumstances but it was undoubtedly still you. I was happy of course to have found you again.” A ghost of a smile graced Minghao’s face, split-second fast and gone the next. “But the same thing happened,” he continued, “And again. And again.”

Minghao pointed to the stack of journals. “Eventually I learned to deal and I just decided to make the most of it, hence the photographs and diaries. I try to write about the good things so that when you die again, at least I have your memory."

The room was silent as Minghao finished. Wonwoo took a few minutes to process but eventually he spoke up.

"Everything you said strangely make sense," Wonwoo admitted, "but I have a couple of questions."

"Shoot."

"How old are you?"

Minghao looked up as he computed. "I'd say about six hundred years old but I'm not so sure. I really don't know how old I was when I woke up in the clearing but it has been six centuries since."

"Okay," Wonwoo nodded, "and the same thing happens every lifetime?"

"Pretty much." Minghao paused as if in deep thought.

"What is it, Hao?"

Minghao shook his head. "Not counting your first reincarnation, this is the first lifetime where you find out about my immortality and everything."

Wonwoo stroked his chin. "What changed then?"

"I don't know. Every lifetime had been relatively the same. Only the context changes."

"Okay. Last question, why does all of this," Wonwoo made a motion with his hand, "happen?"

Minghao frowned and it was all the confirmation Wonwoo needed but the other continued, "I don't know either. But it feels like we've both been cursed. Or like we're both being punished for something. Me with the immortality and soul-eating, which I know looks like nothing but I assure you, it feels like hell. I just happened to semi- get used to it after all these years. And you with the voices and your parents and Mingyu."

Wonwoo didn't bother responding. Through this life there had been nothing but pain and hurt, and knowing there will be more in the future, he didn't know how else to react. "What do we do now, though? So until I meet Mingyu, it's a waiting game? And eventually, we're both going to die."

"... yeah."

For the first time ever, Wonwoo felt true anger. His blood seethed and for a moment, even the voices were quiet as he repeated every single curse he learned from them. Why was destiny this cruel to them? "This is so fucking unfair!"

Minghao reached over and pulled him close. "I know. But at least we have each other."

* * *

Just as predicted, Wonwoo did met Mingyu but it was in the least expected way.

He and Minghao were eating at a ramen shop and when the news played.

MISSING: Kim Mingyu, escaped convict. Wanted for running XX drug cartel and... Missing for a week now.

Wonwoo tuned out the rest of it. There was no mistaking the man in the mugshot and the man, according to Minghao, he was supposed to be with were the same. And the dates lined up. Wonwoo turned to Minghao, “Don’t you think…”

“I think so. Maybe that’s what’s different.”

Now, what?

Minghao looked at the TV intensely and a beat later he grabbed his things and hastily shove them into his bag.

“Hao?” Wonwoo called out to him.

“I need to go!” He spitted out, pulling on his jacket and groaning when his arm went to the wrong whole. “I just need to figure something out. I’ll call you.”

With that, Minghao was gone running and Wonwoo was left to process whatever it was that happened.

* * *

His call came at midnight and Wonwoo still laid awake and eyes wide open. The voices were loud as usual and their screaming was momentarily interrupted by the gentle strains of Edith Piaf singing La Vie En Rose. Minghao’s ringtone.

Wonwoo snatched his phone from nightstand and let out a frantic, “Hello?”

“Wonwoo,” Minghao’s voice came through the speaker, low and foreboding.

“What is it?” Wonwoo breathed, rubbing at his arm where he knew goosebumps are starting to erupt.

Minghao stayed quiet for ten long seconds more. Wonwoo counted his loud, pronounced heartbeats that tick along with the silence. “This never happened before.”

Wonwoo spoke nothing as he tried to gather his thoughts. What should he do? Does he comfort the other? Tell him everything will be fine?

But the thing is, he knew nothing will be fine. Wonwoo was bound for death. But all of that stability is thrown out of the window and now they are faced with uncertainty. Was Wonwoo safe from dying now? Or will this twisted destiny punish them for going against their cruel cycle?

“We’ll stay together,” was what Wonwoo said in the end, and with more conviction he repeated, “We’ll stay together.”

* * *

Days passed by, quick and fleeting like sand pulled away by the ocean waves. They faded into months and months faded into years. Wonwoo long left university and moved in with Minghao. They led a quiet life, Minghao painted and Wonwoo wrote. Everything were their subject. Nothing were their subject. It’s a precarious thing, to write about nothing. The emptiness.

That was their life. Empty. Afraid. No Mingyu ever came to continue their cycle. No vengeful deities descended and burned them with fire. Minghao still had to drink souls and Wonwoo had long come to terms with that, but it was something they left untouched. Wonwoo stood silently at the door for when the immortal would come home, and he waited for him, always ready with a warm robe and cool tea. It didn’t hide the tremble of his hands when he hands them to Minghao who’d always look pale after each outing.

They lived with fear that any moment, ghosts would come to haunt, or any moment Wonwoo could collapse into nothingness.

And yet nothing happened. Wonwoo was now forty. Parts of his hair were greying and there were wrinkles etched unto his forehead if he stares long enough. Nothing happened. Minghao, who sat still beside him, did not look a day older than when he met him in that park. He, among the pair of them, had been the most high-strung. Minghao kept his eyes open and his bed cold. He spent years just guarding Wonwoo, scared that at any moment, the other might die, that one day he’ll wake up with alone and everything around him are just ash.

Nothing happened, and Wonwoo has lived far longer than they expected. Maybe his curse is broken after all. Maybe it’s time to let go now, and _live._

And so they did.

* * *

They had always loved each other regardless of whatever lifetime it was. They loved, pure and deep, despite all their sins, more than friends, more than lovers, more than devotees to each other’s gods.

The Minghao and Wonwoo of this lifetime is no exception.

Their love blurred quickly, bleeding into bright colors as they shared their first kiss under stars, on the terrace of their new country side home. Wonwoo was 42, and this was his first of many, many kisses they shared.

At day, they held hands and took long walks and drank tea together, Minghao taking pictures of him mid-laugh to save for the future. At night, they worshipped each other, their bodies as altars and bruises left blooming on their skin were their offerings, along with mind-numbing pleasure, as sweet as tempting as ambrosia.

It didn’t last long. 

* * *

**ACT 3**

Wonwoo trembled and his knees gave out. All he could do was tightly grip on table so he didn’t fall.

Minghao had just left to buy groceries for them, and now alone, Wonwoo gave in to the voices. He held his head as it threatened to split and crack. The voices were loud and with each kiss he and Minghao shared, it got louder and louder.

Wonwoo could only pretend to be fine in front of the other. Was this his curse backfiring?

Wonwoo thought back to the journals he read twenty years ago, and from what he had pieced together over the years. Yes, he was still very much cursed.

It was just a theory but the timelines seem to match. Minghao had said Wonwoo and Mingyu had always end up together, happy and together. But their happiness was fleeting and was quickly replaced by tragedy. That was how Wonwoo always died, just a taste of love then death came for him.

But he was in love now, and it had been two years since he first tasted love with Minghao. Death should have come earlier to Minghao first and then Wonwoo. But how does one kill an immortal?

With nothing, fates decide to turn to him instead. Wonwoo let out a scream, voices pulling and burning him from the inside. Death would be nice if it meant for silence.

But no, Wonwoo loved and he loved in tides. He will never leave Minghao. He was smart, and maybe he could find a way to break both their curses.

He struggled to stand, but his legs won’t let him, collapsing before he could even right himself. So Wonwoo crawls, to their computer in the living room. He ignores the pain and ignores the voice and ignores the burn that he feels spiraling inside of him.

He searched for curses and cures, of immortals and vampires who drank souls instead of blood. He found myths and legends, and of beings long gone from Earth, of schizophrenia and insanity, of tales of love with happy endings. He found no answer.

The voices took over. Loud. **Loud**. **LOUD.**

Wonwoo fell into oblivion.

* * *

A golden sphinx cat waited for him, behind him an autumn tree with leaves bright as fire. Everything around them was dark but snow fell, softly, gently. The cat purred and circled around Wonwoo’s leg, back arched like a cat would usually do. It looked at him with dark red eyes, strutting forward, towards the tree. The cat meowed and nudged his head as if to motion to Wonwoo then put a paw on the tree.

Voices still rang in his head, and with every step, they grew more and more unbearable. But this is just a dream right? And the cat was incessant with its meowing, as if it really wanted Wonwoo to touch the tree. So Wonwoo did.

He placed a palm on the trunk of the tree and it _burned._

His skin was set aflame, white crossing his eyes and his being. But there is no fire.

He was screaming, louder than the voices ever had. And pain choked him and took away air from his lungs, and _pain, pain, pain._

Then Minghao. A single fleeting image of him and memories came crashing in waves.

Memories of his godhood, and curses, and heavenly fire descending along with the wrath of thousands of gods and millions of souls. The sins that once weighed on his shoulders burdened him once more. The love he once knew for a brother, a fellow god, a friend, it seared brighter. Minghao was his past, his present, and his future.

Thousands of years unravel before Wonwoo, each fragment of his life showed in clips. Minghao was the common denominator of it all, just like it was meant to be, just like the stars have written for them. Despite all the flame, all the tragedy, and wrath of heavens that came with loving him, it was worth it.

He brought Minghao back to life and endured the torture of a million souls. And he thought to himself, he’d do it again in heartbeat. Go against the natural balance of the world if it meant breaking Minghao’s curse.

Air flooded back into Wonwoo’s lungs as he released his hold on the tree. His knees gave out and he knelt, scratching at his arms the still burned with pain. “Why did you show me that?” he demanded the cat.

Only the cat was a man now, a beautiful one with long auburn hair billowing behind him and dressed in purple robes as vibrant as the leaves on the tree Wonwoo has touched. A circle of blue beads and a gold cat was tied on his forehead and a smirking smile decorated his perfect face. “You didn’t see me,” said the man with a crystal-like voice, “I did nothing.”

The man leaned down and kissed Wonwoo on the forehead.

“I wasn’t here. Fate itself gave you back your memories.”

Everything dissolves into fine mist caressed by moonlight.

* * *

Wonwoo woke up groggily, still slumped over the computer. He didn’t know how, but the voices had stopped and his memories were intact, all of them spanning over millenniums.

He remembered their curses and grimaced. He knew what to do now.

He went against law and order. He’d do it again if it was for Minghao.

It was his greatest sin and greatest virtue yet again.

* * *

Minghao came home whistling, opening the door with his foot while his hands were full of paper bags. Wonwoo, who had already been waiting for him, met the artist and took some of the bags.

“How is it out there?” Wonwoo asked in lieu of a greeting.

“Same as usual.” They set down the bags together and put away the groceries in seamless tandem. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Something with soup,” Wonwoo answered as without even looking, putting away the fruits the other have just brought.

“Pork ribs and vegetables good with you?”

Wonwoo hummed.

* * *

As expected, Minghao slumped down shortly after dinner. Wonwoo was careful to catch him as he finished dressing for bed and even more so when he lays Minghao down on his bed. Thank god his sleeping pills still worked, or else Wonwoo would have a much more difficult time with his plan.

Wearing old black clothes, he crept out into the night and made his way to a location he bookmarked earlier. He arrived in seconds, slower than he preferred, but it's the best he could do.

With his memories unlocked, so was part of his power. It had been dormant for years, sleeping deep within his core, and with Wonwoo's cursed mortal body, there's a big limit to what he can do.

At the very least, it did the job of teleporting him to the orphanage he needed. It was old and rickety, with white walls and symbols of the Christian god everywhere. Perfect.

Wonwoo crept around as quietly and hit jackpot upon entering the first room. Rows of children sleep peacefully, unaware of what was about to happen. Wonwoo started with the nearest. A fat kid with a smell that could attract flies. His soul wasn't optimal but Wonwoo doesn't need any witnesses to his crime.

He began, quick stabs to pressure points to kill the boy. Before the last breath is exhaled, Wonwoo plunges a hand into the boy's throat and pulls out the soul embedded in the heart. It was gross, slimy, but it was necessary. Pulling the soul was like pulling out phlegm from lungs, but the soul was a bit stubborn in clinging to the body.

Wonwoo forced it out, blood coating his arms but the soul that glowed pale yellow in his hand was warm, beautiful, and delicious as he drinks it. He needed to be careful with the souls he drank. One misstep and all his plans could unravel. He needed to just store the souls in his body.

Wonwoo wiped his hand and repeated the process until the room is filled with just corpses and his belly with ten souls with colors not too far from white.

Back in the days, he would incinerate their bodies in an instant and scatter their ashes, but Wonwoo's power can't do that right now. He can only set a camouflage barrier and it would only last until tomorrow night.

He needed to act fast.

* * *

By dawn, Wonwoo was close to vomiting and any moment his body threatened to fall. He took of his clothes, not far from the orphanage and burns it into ashes with the last dregs in his power. He needed a temple next, somewhere he can sit for seven whole days. Minghao would be worried and looking for him but it has to be done.

He really doesn’t have much power left, spreading out all he can to take those souls. If he ate one, digesting it, then it would help tremendously but no, he has to keep it for Minghao. With one more look at the white building of the orphanage, he double checked the glamour he placed is in place. It would be a day, two if he was lucky, before the authorities find his crime scene but Wonwoo was careful not to leave evidence and by then, he would be long gone.

What he worried about was _him._ He could only pray, to him, to Minghao, to fates that controlled their destiny, that Seungcheol wouldn’t find him. Or if he did, let Wonwoo’s task be done. He’ll go, just as he did before, but just let him save Minghao from his curse.

Wonwoo was no idiot of course, he has planned all of this and he knows where to go next, destination in mind, he flagged a taxi in the main road. After, of course, changing his clothes.

He gave quick and precise directions to a mountain road, and asked the driver to drop him to a certain point. The driver looks at him funny for there was nothing on that particular mountain except for endless bounds of trees. The road there is just to get from one mountain to the next. Wonwoo just assured he’d pay extra if he could get them there in an hour or less.

With that, their taxi sped off.

Wonwoo closed his eyes then, the souls of children and loyal nuns were churning in his stomach, wanting to get out. The screaming in his head returned too. It’s bearable, he told himself. In a few days, he’d break this curse and most of all, he’d break Minghao’s.

A small part of him whispered, to just accept this, accept their fate. This was punishment after all, for going against the gods. Against the balance of their world. Wonwoo knew Minghao had been in the wrong so has himself. But he swore, for Minghao he’d do anything.

This was his greatest sin but loving Minghao was his greatest virtue.

* * *

The driver dropped him in what could only be called the middle of nowhere, just endless trees around and the road that led them here was old and beaten. The travel time took an hour and fifteen but Wonwoo paid him the driver double regardless. He wouldn’t have much need for human money soon.

The taxi disappeared down the road, returning probably to the city. With no one else in sight, Wonwoo stalked toward a bush at the side of the road, looking insignificant and not at all different from the others. He pushed it aside and set off. The path was overgrown and barely even visible, but Wonwoo knew it was there.

He walked this path once, lifetimes ago, back when he was god and not mortal. It led to a beautiful temple at the mountain’s peak, shaded by towering trees and surrounded by vibrant flowers

It had been over a millennium. No one knew of this path in this life anymore. People did not care much for worship of gods and deities, but instead they worship their selves, their devices, their money. The truly religious were few and far between. It was a stroke of luck that the orphanage he pillaged was nearby and was run by faithful nuns.

So he walked this path, alone but determined. With every step, his stomach churned and the voices screamed, but there is something electric in the air as he ascended. Power thrummed all around him, centuries of spiritual energy absorbed from the wind and the sun has naturally blessed this mountain.

It was the perfect place to cultivate and to worship hence the temple. Even if it was bare now, it was still perfect, especially for Wonwoo’s last purpose in this world.

* * *

Wonwoo reached the peak of the mountain at past noon. The stone foundations of the temple stood timeless but the wood had long been corroded by the elements. Remnants of the previous life here were still everywhere: broken pots, scattered beads, staffs and horsehair whisks. Spiritual energy was so thick here, Wonwoo could almost taste it, tempting and calming at the same time.

The voices in him quieted down, but the souls in him were restless. Almost unbearable, but nothing could be that if it were for Minghao.

Wonwoo took one step after another, exhaustion deep in his bones. From eternity, from fickle destiny, from himself. Tired, but just a few more.

He entered the pavilion, the highest and most spiritual point of the temple. He sat in the middle and let his instincts guide him.

Closing his eyes, the souls felt like they were clawing their way out of Wonwoo. Painful. But Wonwoo breathes in, breathes out. He repeated mantras in his head, of languages even immortal gods did not speak anymore. He said his prayers, and willed the souls in him to meld together.

He gathered the energy around him, the spirituality, and poured it unto himself, unto his stomach where the souls live. He weaved the souls together, Wonwoo’s own life force as the thread and the temple’s energy as the needle. Together, together, he chanted in ancient tongue.

Just one pure soul, powerful and imbued with a god’s essence, _Wonwoo’s_ essence. It would break Minghao’s curse. It would break Wonwoo, but it would also break the curse. That is enough for him.

* * *

So Wonwoo meditated. Ceaseless. Unrelenting. The voices split his head in half and the souls he weaved burned him inside, desperate. But Wonwoo simply breathed, in, out. Ignore the pain.

He did not eat. He did not move. Just breathe and will the elements into himself, will the souls together.

Sun rose, sun set. The moon shone on him like a beacon. Again. Again. Again.

Day three, nightfall.

“Wonwoo.” It’s a voice he didn’t recognize.

“ _Wonwoo_.” He snaps his eyes open. That’s a voice he shouldn’t hear, not now. Not yet.

Minghao stood in front of him with mugshot eyes and his cardigan looking too big on him. Beside him, a beautiful being that bore familiar features and dressed in robes of another millennium.

Junhui, his memories supplied. A mischievous god who grew quiet in Wonwoo’s last moments in heaven. The god represented by the sphinx cat. That rang a bell in Wonwoo, have they met before? But his mind conjured nothing.

“You need to break the curse now, Wonwoo.” Junhui’s lilting voice was strained with worry as he pushes Minghao gently towards him.

Wonwoo caught him, of course, and his lover clung to him, arms wrapped tightly around Wonwoo and fresh tears began to stain them.

“It’s not ready.” Wonwoo’s words were ragged and raspy as it came out of his mouth. Days of fasting and disuse has taken its course in Wonwoo’s throat and now out of his meditation, everything burned.

He blinked his own tears away and stilled his trembling hand, splaying it across Minghao’s back.

“We have no choice!” The light of the moon fluctuated along with Junhui’s outburst. “Seungcheol is on his way and he brought the Red Angel with him.”

Dread filled Wonwoo at once. The Red Angel was a high immortal with unyielding sense of justice and burning fury for fallen gods like Wonwoo. The Red Angel was death and heavenly fire himself.

The souls in Wonwoo weren’t ready, four days premature, but it would have to be.

Wonwoo tugged on Minghao’s cardigan. “Love,” he called him, “Look at me.”

“Where did you go?” he cried against Wonwoo’s shoulder. “Why did you disappear?”

Wonwoo allowed himself a moment. He held Minghao in his arms tightly, just breathing and feeling his presence. Wonwoo stroked his lover’s hair again, again, in lulling, soothing motion. Just the two of them in this moment.

But a moment was short.

“You need to eat my soul,” Wonwoo whispered.

“What?! No!” Minghao jumped from his as if electrified. He stared right into Wonwoo with a gaze as furious as heavenly fire but as tender as moonlight meeting the ocean for the first time. “Wonwoo, I need answers.”

“Please trust me.” It was all Wonwoo could say now. “It’s the only way I can break your curse.”

“Wonwoo!” His lover hit his chest, as tears fell from those pretty eyes.

“Minghao, I promise you, everything will be fine,” Wonwoo wiped the tears away with his thumb, mindless of how scary everything is. Everything could go wrong, but he too has to believe everything will be fine, if for his love. “Just trust me. We don’t have much time left.”

“Time for what?!”

“Minghao.” Junhui knelt, sullying his grand robes. He placed a hand on Minghao’s shoulder and his eyes mirrored Wonwoo’s, filled with concern and devotion. “Trust Wonwoo. Please.”

Minghao ignored the god and simply crushed his form against Wonwoo’s.

But Jun snapped his head away and hissed, “I need to go and stall them.” He turned to Minghao once more and caressed his cheek. He spoke for the last time in the gentlest tones, “Please trust him.” The god vanished into mist.

“Hao, please.” Wonwoo pulled once more on Minghao.

“Okay, what do I do?” Minghao retracted, wiping his face on his sleeve.

“Give me your hand.” Minghao did so and Wonwoo guided it to hover just below his chest. “You feel that?”

“It burns!”

“I know,” and Wonwoo indeed knew. He had been burning inside for days. “But it won’t last long. Trust me.”

Minghao determinedly kept his hand in place, despite the scorching heat he must’ve felt. “Ah—What do I do next?”

“Imagine there’s a ball just below where my heart is, do you feel it?” Minghao nodded. “Pull it. Rip it off. I’ll lose consciousness as soon as you do, but I’ll be fine I swear.”

Minghao’s eyes widened but he steeled his voice, Wonwoo could tell. “What do I do after that?”

There’s no sugarcoating this. “Eat it. It’s my soul along with some others, but not the entirety of my soul.”

“That sounds insane.” And indeed, it did, but Wonwoo would take the gamble for Minghao.

“I know, but I need you to do it, to break your curse, and maybe mine too,” Wonwoo told him, sounding a bit hopeful even when his own instincts screamed otherwise. “I’ll explain everything after this.”

Minghao braced himself and began to pull. If it felt strange, he did not say, but it must have been working. Wonwoo could feel the lump of soul he had been weaving be tugged. As it left him, so did Wonwoo’s consciousness.

Minghao was halfway through pulling it out completely, and the burning white of soul began to manifest through Wonwoo’s clothes. In his haze, Wonwoo heard the unmistakable thunder of a thousand gods descending heaven.

Wonwoo grabbed Minghao’s hand, the one pulling, and yanked it away along with his soul. He pressed one last kiss, where it landed, he did not know. Then he breathed his last, “I love you.”

Everything has burnt into nothing. Wonwoo fell.

* * *

Coming to consciousness was like wading through mud. Wonwoo blearily opened his eyes and made up nothing except for white-blue in an ocean of darkness. He heard nothing but the wind rustling and the chime of chains clinking together.

There’s sand in his feet, it’s what he felt next. Then all at once, there was stinging coldness.

Then pain, _pain_ **_pain!_**

Wonwoo’s eyes refocused and his senses comeback. The events before flashed like a movie in his mind, and as it did dread filled him. He could only hope, Minghao made it out safely.

If he was able to eat Wonwoo’s black soul mixed hundreds of pure ones, it would break the curse. Minghao would be human, not immortal. He’d be out of heaven’s punishment.

As for Wonwoo, his curse must have been broken if he was now imprisoned here.

White chains bound Wonwoo to a sandy ground and froze his body in biting frost, but not quite freezing. Twelve lights shone on him, but beyond it was nothingness. Another light, one above Wonwoo bathing him with warm light but scorched him like heavenly fire.

He was simultaneously burnt and frozen alive, on a barren island thrown to float for eternity in the abyss.

Wonwoo gritted his teeth as pain seared from every part of his body. There was nothing but pain, in his bones, in his skin.

But his heart and mind and remnants of his soul, they screamed for one thing. Minghao.

If this was the punishment for loving his god and setting him free, so be it.

This might be Wonwoo’s greatest sin but loving Minghao with his entirety was his virtue. No god and no destiny can ever take that away from him.

* * *

Time didn’t exist for him. Not anymore and not in the abyss. There was nothing but pain and nothingness.

But curiously, a pillar of white appeared before Wonwoo and his eyes struggled to make out its features.

“He's human now.” The voice came and it startled Wonwoo as the stranger’s face come into clarity. Junhui, with his hair short as Wonwoo and robes no longer magnificent. Just mourning white. Was he punished too? But Junhui continued, “No memories, no godhood, but no curse. Strangely enough the fallen prince of Hell helped too. This is my last gift. Take care of him.”

Junhui touched the white chains binding Wonwoo and in an instant, they unraveled. The feline god placed a hand over Wonwoo’s cheek in a soft caress.

“I bless you with mortality. Let the only condition be that in every lifetime, every reincarnation, you’ll find Minghao and love each other, love more than I could ever have."

Junhui came close, in an almost kiss, and then, nothing.

* * *

Wonwoo sleepily made his way back to his dorm. He had been out studying again for finals and didn’t realize it was dawn until a phone call from his mom woke him for that exact reason. He really should get that fixed.

Nonetheless, he had packed his bags and left the café he stayed in, in favor of sleeping in an actual bed. He must be really tired, or maybe just scatterbrained, because the next thing he knew he was on the ground with his glasses askew.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” A stranger in athletic gear helped him up his feet. Must be an early morning jogger. “I really didn’t notice you.”

Ah, his mind finally pieced together what just happened.

“It’s fine,” Wonwoo said as he straightened his glasses.

“Let me make it up to you, I’m really sorry.” The stranger sounded really guilty and finally Wonwoo looked at him. The stranger was cute, with fairy-like features, or at least, it reminded Wonwoo of fairies. Something about it was familiar though.

“It’s fine, I promise.” It must have been Wonwoo’s sleep deprivation or maybe the stranger was just, just… there is no word for it but it thrummed underneath Wonwoo’s skin and made his heart beat. But what came out his mouth surprised him, “If you really want to make it up to me, you can have my number. For now, I badly need some sleep. I’m Wonwoo.”

The stranger smiled, beautiful. “Hi Wonwoo, I’m Minghao.”

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this was quite a journey. I began Acts 1 and 2 over a year ago, in like two or three days. The prompt was condition and I had started writing this two time before I eventually settled on this concept of gods and mythology. Honestly, I didn't expect this to be this long especially in comparison to the other fics in the 78 Ships series. This is the reason I haven't written much on the series too. I was stuck with this piece. It was only the start of April this year did I go back and began finishing this.  
> My interpretation of the word condition was like it was a rule or something. My first draft of this involved Minghao having a set of rules, not to fall in love. Think How To Be a Heartbreaker by Marina and Diamonds. The second draft had Minghao as an immortal wizard but once he fell in love, he'd age and die quickly. I don't remember now why I scrapped those but this fic was the end result. As I said, I wrote this over a year ago so I don't remember exactly what went on in my head. All I remember was writing this in fastfood restaurant while I waited for rush hour to pass.  
> In this fic, the condition was the curse. That was what I wanted from the very start and I wanted Wonwoo to break that curse. And in a roundabout way, the condition was what Jun said too, in this line: “I bless you with mortality. Let the only condition be that in every lifetime, every reincarnation, you’ll find Minghao and love each other, love more than I could ever have."  
> Jun wasn't supposed to be in this fic but I was stuck in writing this and then this [ video ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0VW08W3gr7w)came out and I just had to use it. Still, I didn't know how and I still didn't touch this fic.  
> Come quarantine, I was stuck at home and we were already finished for the semester so I took some time to write and eventually came back to writing this WonHao AU (as I like to call it in my planner^^) I wrote slowly, like 200 words a day and finally we have this! I was still very much stuck with writing but I liked some of the imagery from Fallin' Flower then boom, I have an outline for the ending. So if the Wonwoo being imprisoned scene seems familiar, it's because it's from the MV.  
> There won't be a sequel, but thanks to Fallin' Flower again, I have companion fics planned one focusing on Jun's side of the story, one focusing on Seungcheol's backstory, and one about the fallen prince of hell and the Red Angel who both had a cameo here. I have all the ships and outlines ready but I don't know when I'll be able to start. Though most likely, I'll be keeping them in the shorter side unlike this one since my priority in writing are Carat Cafe and my MDZS fic that's yet to be published.  
> I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I had ^^ if not, then that's okay too, thank you for reading until the end! God bless and I hope you are all safe!
> 
> Edit (09/20/20): I made art for this.  
> https://twitter.com/mwennie_svtadea/status/1307349036735721473?s=20


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